"If they complete the breach, the first thing they'll try to sever is—"
The palace screamed.
Not a sound. A sensation. A violent wrench that tore through the bond like claws raking glass. My knees buckled as pain detonated behind my eyes, white and merciless. Malrik's grip tightened instantly, his arm locking around my waist before I could fall.
"Focus," he ordered, voice cutting through the chaos. "Do not pull away."
"I'm not—" My words fractured as another surge hit, sharper this time, invasive. It felt like hands inside my chest, searching for the place where we touched. "They're inside my head."
"I know." His jaw was rigid, fury vibrating through the bond. "That is why you must stay with me."
The corridor ahead warped, shadows stretching unnaturally as the inner lattice buckled. The palace was folding space to slow the intruder, but whatever force had breached it was adapting in real time. Each step forward felt contested, as if the air itself resisted our movement.
"What were you going to say?" I demanded through clenched teeth. "Finish it."
Malrik didn't answer immediately. He thrust his free hand outward, carving a sigil in the air. A barrier snapped into existence just as a ripple of black magic slammed into it, dispersing with a shriek that echoed down the hall.
"They'll try to sever the emotional axis," he said finally. "Not the magic."
My breath caught. "That doesn't make sense."
"It does," he replied grimly. "The artifact binds power through trust. Instinct. Willing alignment."
Another impact rocked the barrier, closer this time. The walls bled light.
"They can't break the bond by force," he continued. "So they'll try to make you choose against it."
Against him.
The realization hit harder than the magic.
"So they're going to use me," I whispered. "My fear. My doubts."
"Yes."
"And if I hesitate—"
"Then the bond fractures," he said. "Not cleanly."
The barrier shattered.
We moved at the same instant, not planned, not spoken. I ducked as Malrik pivoted, his magic lashing outward in a controlled arc that tore through the encroaching shadows. I felt the strike as if it were my own arm extending—knew when to step, when to turn, when to breathe.
That scared me more than the attack.
We burst into the inner nexus chamber, the heart of the palace's magic. The air here was thick, vibrating with ancient power pulled taut. At its center hovered the lattice core—normally a stable web of light. Now it flickered, strands darkening where something external had latched on.
A figure stood beneath it.
Not solid. Not entirely shadow. A silhouette stitched together by stolen magic, its presence wrong in a way that made my skin crawl.
"You're late," it said, voice layered, as if several mouths spoke at once. "We expected the bond to slow you more."
Malrik stepped forward, placing himself half a step in front of me. A protective reflex. Unnecessary—and yet my chest tightened at it.
"You won't touch the lattice," he said coldly.
The figure tilted its head. "Oh, king. We already have."
The bond pulsed violently, reacting before my mind could catch up. Images flooded me—memories that weren't mine. Battlefields soaked in blood. A woman screaming as chains of light wrapped around her wrists. A younger Malrik, eyes burning with a rage so pure it hurt to witness.
I staggered. "Malrik—"
"Do not look at it," he snapped. "It's feeding you echoes."
Too late. The echoes had teeth.
"You see?" the figure crooned. "This bond is not new. It is a cycle. One he has failed before."
My heart hammered. "What is it talking about?"
Malrik didn't answer.
That silence was a blade.
The figure seized on it instantly. "He never tells you the ending, does he? Only the rules. Only the power."
Another image slammed into me—betrayal. A blade driven home. A bond collapsing in a scream that tore magic apart.
I wrenched myself back into the present, gasping. "Malrik, tell me this isn't—"
"It is not this," he said fiercely. "What happened then will not happen now."
"That's not what I asked."
The figure laughed softly. "He swore the same thing last time."
Magic surged as Malrik attacked, his strike precise and devastating. It ripped through the figure's torso—but instead of dispersing, the shadow split, reforming almost instantly.
"Violence won't help," it said calmly. "We're not here to kill her."
Its gaze turned fully to me.
"We're here to offer her a choice."
The lattice core flickered dangerously, its resonance syncing uncomfortably with the artifact inside me. I felt it respond, curious despite itself.
"Don't listen," Malrik warned, stepping closer, his presence a steady anchor in the storm raging through my senses. "This is manipulation."
"Truth is not manipulation," the figure countered. "It is context."
My pulse thundered. "What choice?"
The shadow extended a hand—not toward me, but toward the lattice. "Step away from him, and the bond dissolves safely. You walk free. No crown. No chains. No destiny written in blood."
The offer hit where it hurt most.
"And if I don't?" I asked.
"Then you stay," it said. "And when the cycle completes, you will break the same way the others did."
Others.
I turned to Malrik. His expression was locked down, but the bond betrayed him—fear, sharp and rare, cutting through his usual control.
"How many?" I demanded. "How many before me?"
He met my gaze. "Two."
The honesty landed harder than a lie.
"And they—"
"They chose differently," he said. "Both times."
The chamber trembled, the lattice screaming in protest as the figure tightened its grip.
"Time," the shadow urged softly. "Decide."
I looked at Malrik. At the demon king who had never pretended to be gentle. Who had given me power without promises. Who was standing at the center of a storm he had failed to stop before.
And yet—
The bond didn't pull me away.
It pulled me closer.
I stepped forward, placing my hand over his heart. The artifact flared, not wild—focused.
"No," I said.
The figure hissed. "Think carefully—"
"I am," I interrupted. "And that's why you're wrong."
Malrik inhaled sharply as the bond surged, deeper than before, threading something new between us—resolve, fierce and mutual.
"You don't understand the cycle," I continued, voice steady despite the chaos. "You assume it ends the same way every time."
The lattice blazed, light tearing through shadow.
"Because this time," I said, meeting Malrik's eyes as power roared around us, "he's not the only one choosing."
The figure screamed as the bond reacted violently—
And Malrik whispered, low and urgent, right against my ear,
"If you do this, there is no turning back—"